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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808807">So Happy Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_lil_hyena/pseuds/Sleepy_lil_hyena'>Sleepy_lil_hyena</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ahriman Martyr AU [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adora (She-Ra) is a Dork, Adora has a clone brother in this one, Ahriman Martyr AU, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bottom Adora (She-Ra), Don't question it, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Girl Penis, Grinding, Healing, I Don't Even Know, Loneliness, Loving Sex, Older Characters, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Scents &amp; Smells, Sex on Furniture, Top Catra (She-Ra), Trans Catra (She-Ra), Trans Female Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Walking In On Someone, Yes this is named after Happy Together by The Turtles, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:53:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_lil_hyena/pseuds/Sleepy_lil_hyena</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Heavily preoccupied with the bustle of their post-war career aspirations--Catra's cafe, Adora's work as a high school history teacher--Catra and Adora have been both tired and awfully lonely. Faced with a sudden inability to hold back after a month long dry spell, the two of them finally snap and use Adora's desk for something other than lesson planning. However, the two of them forgot that other people live in the Degruy-Meowmeow household too in the heat of the moment.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora/Catra (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ahriman Martyr AU [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>So Happy Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"...And you're remembering to add sour cream to the cheesecake?" Catra asked with far too much urgency in her voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, cat mom. Just like you said. We've got it under control, I promise," Harper reassured his magicat veteran parent, voice crackling through her communicator. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful with your tone, mister. The fact that you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> my secret recipe is a privilege. You’re a competitor, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geez, it’s just sour cream in cheesecake batter. Chill, cat mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I’m just pullin’ your leg. You’re a competitor, sure, but you’re my kid, dammit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra paused a minute, sighed, let the communicator temporarily fall from her ear. It was a long day in a very long week, the car felt so humid she found it hard to breathe, and, well…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss you, kiddo. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s...really kind of you to say. Thanks,” Harper paused a minute, noticing Catra’s ongoing silence, “You still there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah, yeah. I was just...uh...fixing the dice on my mirror,” Catra tried to explain, hoping Harper wouldn’t recall that there</span>
  <em>
    <span> were no dice</span>
  </em>
  <span> on her car mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay</span>
  </em>
  <span> then...You always were an eclectic decorator,” Harper laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, thanks, I think? Since when do you use fancy bullshit words?” Catra asked. She’d have to remember to ask Adora what the heck </span>
  <em>
    <span>eclectic </span>
  </em>
  <span>meant again. Assuming she could find the time, that is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since I started writing, I guess. Plus, the whole university thing. Gotta use all the flowery words if I am to be an author of distinction, you see!” Harper giggled, putting on his attempt at a fancy voice, “And it’s a compliment, by the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, can you practice being an </span>
  <em>
    <span>author of distinction </span>
  </em>
  <span>on someone who isn’t your confused mom? They didn’t teach us about that stuff in the army, y’know. Or even in my journalism classes, now that I think about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on! You use fancy words all the time, just look at you go whenever there’s food to criticize!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s different!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it different?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra tried to think of an explanation, only to find herself drawing blank after blank. She was too tired to argue, even jokingly. Instead, she simply laughed along with Harper, the sheer disproportionate boisterousness of the whole thing doubtlessly betraying her exhaustion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, you win, bud,” she caught herself, “Hey, Harper?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, cat mom?” Harper asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Proud of you, kid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure? I mean, I guess I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>be a little pretentious--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think what you mean is ‘I’m an awesome son and I’m gonna be an awesome writer, too’. Really, H-Bomb.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, geez…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, just because you’re 22 doesn’t mean I don’t get to be all mushy with you sometimes. Or should I tell you the story of how you were conceived again instead?” Catra taunted, feeling a slight pang of...something approaching a nostalgic melancholia, she supposed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, First Ones, please don’t. I think I’m still traumatized from last time, thank you very much. Mushy is just fine,” Harper sounded almost panicked, “Hey, speaking of which, you guys still want me to visit in July?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should be down for it, yeah. Finn and Adora’ll probably be over the moon to see you again, not to mention I gotta grill this </span>
  <em>
    <span>Looker </span>
  </em>
  <span>character about what his intentions are for dating my son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cat mom! Stop!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? I'm just saying, bud. You don't know army boys like I do." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's a really great guy, okay? I promise. I love him to bits and he treats me and Blossom right." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Treats you right, huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cat mom, I swear to the First Ones, if you make a dirty joke I'm gonna--" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, Harper, alright. You're off the hook for now. Just means I hang back, get all my material ready for when you're up here," Catra's eyes darted to the clock on her communicator. It was probably best if she headed inside the house soon, "Well, I think I'd better get goin'. Your space mom's probably waiting for me." </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wishful thinking, Catra, wishful thinking, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought to herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No worries. I should probably get back to this essay anyhow," Harper said reassuringly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, good luck, bud. Oh, and Harper?" Catra asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, cat mom?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you, kiddo." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love you too. I'll see you in a couple of weeks." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm getting hyped. Bye." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bye now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra listened as Harper hung up, the communicator beeping to let her know that the call had ended. She sighed, letting her hand slump and the rectangular block of metal, plastic and circuits fall to her lap with it. The exertion of the day weighed on her so heavily she could feel it in her bones. With the cafe attracting so much new patronage for the summer--folks from all over the EPG </span>
  <em>
    <span>flocked </span>
  </em>
  <span>to Station 17's famous Grayskull Coffee Roasters, all vying for a chance to meet the Lord Protector which she </span>
  <em>
    <span>consistently </span>
  </em>
  <span>denied to all--and Kevin and Dee vacationing on the now-rebuilt Ahriman, Catra and her skeleton crew of teenage part-timers were swamped. This wasn't some sort of abstract notion anymore, either; the wear was really taking its toll on her, but she didn't exactly have many better ideas. Hopefully she could get some me time in this evening, but, well, maybe "me time" wasn't exactly the thing she was after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The summer climate's effect on the car's inner atmosphere was making her rheumatic. She'd been sitting here in the driveway for like half an hour, and her excuse to do so was no longer applicable, not to mention the heat. Feeling the doorhandle click in her hand, she contemplated what exactly it was she was dreading so much about coming home. Something didn’t add up, though she had some hunches. Maybe it’d be easier to articulate in time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra climbed the steps, taking a brief moment of respite to admire her strawberry bushes--they looked great, and they tasted even better, especially as jam--and coming to turn the doorknob. Things still felt off, but she wasn’t sure what was the exact source. Well, maybe she was? It all felt so pointlessly complicated and she just couldn’t be arsed to put in any legwork with it right now. It was okay to not be okay sometimes, at least that’s what Perfuma had been telling her. It was probably just the aftershocks of today’s events; she was a little tired, had been on her feet all day, and Dave the new kid spilled a whole-ass latte right in the middle of the dining area. Yeah, that was it. It had to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finn? Adora? I’m back!” Catra called as she crossed to the other side of the door, kicking off her shoes. No reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that figures, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought. She caught the resentful tone of the words and kindly told them to fuck off, knowing consciously that her train of thought wasn’t fair to Adora. Or Finn, for that matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was total silence in the house, pierced ever so slightly by the faint thrum of the fridge and faint sound effects from a telescreen somewhere. Probably Finn’s, if Catra had to wager a guess. Unless, of course, somehow, the end of the semester was affording missus DeGruy a rare moment of calm. There it was again, and as with before Catra mentally pinched herself. Her heart broke for Adora right now, buried under mountains of school paperwork, but she knew how much it all meant to her. Adora ran herself ragged at Station 17 High for the same reasons Catra ran herself ragged at the restaurant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Passing through the living room on her way to the dining room and then finally to the stairs, she stopped a minute to look at the oil painting hanging on the mantlepiece. Some underling of Glimmer’s had done it in the wake of the last war, right after Finn was born (now there was a fun story for another time). Catra in her dashing red, white and black Lord Protector uniform, Adora in her flowing white-gold dress, little Harper in his little purple mockup Royal Army jacket, and baby Finn swaddled in a red blanket in their space mom's arms. There was a faint nostalgia about it, some sort of </span>
  <em>
    <span>je ne sais quoi </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra could feel like a ghost, just out of reach. The years heralded different challenges that the mud and blood of the Horde Wars, ones that she was really feeling the impact of at the moment. The more she zeroed in on that feeling, however, the more she began to understand this feeling in the pit of her soul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora looked positively heavenly in that dress, and that had her mind going places. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned her heels and headed up the stairs. There were...</span>
  <em>
    <span>some ideas </span>
  </em>
  <span>going through her head at the moment, not all of them mandatory. If she could just get her wife's attention, only for a second. That had to be the missing piece. The last few months had been busy, lonely, tiring and altogether full of silence...and the worst part of all, of course, was that she was unbelievably complicit in it. They just needed a little break, even if it was like five minutes away from the grade books and coffee pushing that had seemingly come to dominate the early summer. Catra found her way to the top of the stairs without further delay, took one last deep breath, and turned the doorknob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the bedroom, Missus DeGruy sat bolt upright at her desk. Catra honestly felt like the blonde eldritch cybercommando-turned-high school teacher hadn’t abandoned her post there in weeks, the semester’s end consuming all her attention. Adora had basically spent her time at home eating the bare minimum to stay alive, drinking coffee in the gallons and sleeping in shifts, fixated maddeningly on all the courses she was teaching this year. Her magicat wife definitely understood the passion for her work--really, she did--but she found herself somehow </span>
  <em>
    <span>missing </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adora despite her not physically going anywhere. Half the time they didn’t even have the small pleasure of cuddling in bed anymore due to their busy schedules. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hey, Adora,” Catra announced her presence sheepishly from the doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you,” Adora didn’t look up from her desk, red-framed reading glasses trained on the stack of papers. She brushed a loose strand of her cropped blonde undercut out of the way, barely even flinching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatcha got there?" Catra asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lesson planning." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cool, cool. And, uh, how's that going, babe?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's…" Adora let out a weak laugh and shrugged, "It's going, that's for sure." </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Go tell her you miss her. Go give her a hug, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe that'll cheer her up. First Ones know it'd make my day a hell of a lot brighter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I get you. I'll let you get back to that, then. Maybe I'll check in with how Finn's doing," Catra shot Adora a tight-lipped smile and nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You fucking moron, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought to herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra rotated in the doorway, turning to leave while internally cursing herself for being so timid. She just felt downright exhausted, like she was all out of spoons, and somehow she was anxious about upsetting Adora. Her wife took teaching so damn seriously one might surmise her First One fabricators had grown her in a vat to teach rather than kill. Getting in her way might get ugly, though she wasn't sure how much of that was just her own projections. She knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>got easily frustrated when something distracted her from the cafe, and it seemed only natural in her mind. What Adora said next, however, Catra's back still turned upon her lover, surprised her to an extent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, that doesn't mean you can't stay," Adora casually stated. If Catra didn't know any better, the words sounded almost like a hint rather than a simple sentence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Catra turned, "Well, uh, if you're cool with it, sure. Do you...er, do you want me to stay?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. I do," Adora assured the brunette magicat, actually looking up from her desk. Her azure orbs were just so darn beautiful, framed in those glasses or otherwise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, well, uh, good. Me too." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go ahead, get comfy. It's your room too, honey." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra did as she was told and let herself in, tossing her jacket on the floor and flopping onto the bed. The box springs squeaked and bounced before finally falling silent, probably about the most bouncing they'd done in months. It felt good to finally rest after being on her feet all day. Moreover, even if it wasn't the most intimate or cuddly quality time together, it was still nice to be with her wife. That eye contact was probably the softest moment the two had had together in recent memory; as Catra was about to soon discover, however, it was only going to go uphill from here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So…" Adora's voice trailed in an oddly playful way. Catra felt a slight bend in the bed and looked up to see her wife staring back at her, glasses off. "How was the cafe today?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The magicat veteran remained mum for a while, her David Bowie-esque eyes squinting in befuddlement. She sat motionless on the bed, unsure of what the hell was going on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...You okay, kitten?" Adora asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Been a while since I heard that one, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra thought, trying to silence the constant whine in her head giving color commentary to her every Adora-centric thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-yeah, totally, just...I thought you had planning," Catra sounded about as confused as she looked, which was on par with her reaction to Finn trying to explain video games to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It can wait a bit, I guess. You know I've missed you too, right?" Adora seemingly read Catra's mind, though she wasn't the best at keeping her feelings quiet; her tail did look a little bushy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh...I...Yeah. Yeah, of course. Never in doubt. Well, you wanna come lie down? I'm just kinda taking a load off after doing, like, ninety percent of the work over at Grayskull," Catra offered, patting the adjacent, unoccupied side of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That sounds rough. I'd be happy to lie with you for a bit, though, if that'd help," the blonde First One smiled, though it looked mildly strained. It was doubtlessly the look of sleep deprivation and aggressive caffeination, one Catra was familiar with after seeing it in the mirror one too many times. That was what you got when you raised two kids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hell yeah it would. Bring it in, give this tired old soldier all the cuddles."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Old? Oh, come on, 45's not that old!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> age really well…" Catra said smugly, hands behind her head, "Now would you get over here already? Wouldn't wanna waste too much of your planning time, missus DeGruy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey now, watch it," Adora flopped back on the bed, the worn blue fabric of her 'Ride The Lightning' t-shirt billowing as she landed, "I'm here with you, aren't I?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, you are. Sorry. Long day, chip on my shoulder," Catra explained herself, though more accurately it had been a long </span>
  <em>
    <span>month.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She slid onto her side, letting Adora come in in front of her as her little spoon. That was a big mistake, or arguably a good move depending on how she looked at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Adora asked, squirming a bit to get comfy in Catra’s arms. The magicat woman pretended not to notice where her wife’s rear had come to rest. “Tell me about it. Feel like I haven’t heard a good cafe story in ages.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s like this. Y’see--” Catra started, cut off by a distracting feeling she was doing her best to ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Christ, was I always this goddamn sensitive? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra asked herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora’s butt was poking directly into the ex-Royal Army leader’s pelvic area, drawing the attention of parts she wished would...well, not take notice. Whether this was intentional or not seemed obscure for now, but Catra was certain her wife wouldn’t even have that stuff on her mind given her current mental state. She again found herself cursing herself internally, ready to apologize for any discomfort she might indirectly cause her lover. It helped that she wasn’t actively ashamed of what was in her pants anymore, the constant cries of “abomination” and “fetishist” from that red-coated masked alchemist she used to serve under in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hordeswehr</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of sight and mind, but that didn’t mean it didn’t occasionally and unintentionally make things awkward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had a lunch rush that was easily </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice </span>
  </em>
  <span>the usual size, and we...we were kinda understaffed because one of the new bloods didn’t show up, and if that wasn’t enough, I...I…” Catra continued to tell the story, pressing on with some difficulty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She found herself remembering a mission from the Second Horde War, one of the few times her and Adora went back into active duty; First Ones, did it break their hearts to leave Harper behind, even if Glimmer was sure to take good care of the then-little guy. They were on the back deck of a frigate bound for the then-besieged Nemesis and the Lord Protector was trying to sketch out a battle plan with her old comrade, the jaded sniper-scout Kyle Mannerheim. Amidst this, as payback for something that happened way back in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>last </span>
  </em>
  <span>war, Adora decided to jump up on Catra’s chair and sit </span>
  <em>
    <span>directly </span>
  </em>
  <span>on her lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can you get her to settle down? I need you to concentrate. Not losing any more people to those mole rat bastards. Not since Lonnie, Catra, you hear me? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kyle had demanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, Catra, concentrate, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adora taunted, mimicking her words from years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Y-yeah, Kyle. I got it. I-I’m sorry, I miss her too, just...nggh… </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra had grumbled, most definitely distracted. She wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>complaining </span>
  </em>
  <span>about Adora grinding on her girly parts per se, just...a little frustrated with her timing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh? Huh, that’s funny. I don’t remember you keeping your gun that close to the front of your pants, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adora had quipped, her blitheness all facade. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you seriously think that’s my gun? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra had asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kyle had trailed off, burying his face in his palms in exasperation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While the circumstances weren’t nearly as dire now, Catra was feeling some familiarity, just a smattering of deja vu. She still assumed Adora wasn’t trying to start anything quite as overtly this time--she must’ve been so damn tired--but she was starting to consider it. Some playfulness wouldn't hurt right about now. Wishful thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well? You did what?" Adora asked, and her voice was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>a little playful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...uh, I burnt my hand on the sandwich press </span>
  <em>
    <span>real bad,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra continued her story. the drawn-out emphasis on </span>
  <em>
    <span>real bad </span>
  </em>
  <span>perhaps being a not-so-subtle hint. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, Adora, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought, feeling even more distracted by the friction of Adora’s rear against her crotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, kitten. I’m sorry. I hope you’re okay,” Adora sounded genuinely concerned, though the way she’d decided to...er, care for Catra’s wellbeing was frustrating at best. Her backside was grinding right up against the dark-haired magicat’s jeans in all the right spots, and it was taking some serious self-restraint on Catra’s part not to moan. “Anything else you did today?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Catra started, but trailed off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heat and firmness between her legs was getting difficult to ignore. She really wished whatever higher power there was had had the oversight to not saddle her with a brain, a penis, and only enough blood for one of those at a time. That was just some bad design right there. She still wasn’t completely sure if all of this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>intentional </span>
  </em>
  <span>on her buff blonde wife’s part, but the effects it was having...she just hoped she could keep herself together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I...uh…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought back to them on Nemesis, and just how that evening ended. Feeling a little frustrated at how her strategizing had gone--though Kyle and her did eventually work something out, and the mission went smoothly--she was waiting for Adora in her quarters that night-cycle. She spent a bit of time goading her on in response to her earlier gesture, expressing feigned frustration which was answered in kind until the two of them snapped. They must've kept the soldiers two decks down awake with their revelry, not to mention the springs in that army-issue cot squealed like a stuck pig with every stroke. The war had a strange way of getting them to live in the moment, something seemingly missing from their lives as of late. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You…?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More heat building between her thighs. She noticed her tail was brushing Adora's wrist, the damn thing almost as bad as Melog at telegraphing her subconscious musings. At least he was staying with Harper's little family now. He would've made her intentions a hell of a lot more obvious, though it felt to her like it was probably pretty obvious now anyway. Her jeans felt as tight as sausage casings, and Adora was right up on her. It wouldn't have been difficult to add up, especially for such a bright scholarly mind as Adora's. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Everything okay, kitten? I'm sorry if this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk about. Your day must've been a real </span>
  <em>
    <span>cock-</span>
  </em>
  <span>up," Adora mused, almost certainly teasing at this point. The emphasis on certain words was just too perfect not to be a coincidence. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're lucky I appreciate bad puns as much as I do, idiot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra thought, trying hard not to laugh, or maybe moan, she wasn't sure which, </span>
  <em>
    <span>A lesser woman would've lost her wood over that kind of talk. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--Yeah, babe, I’m okay,” Catra strained through gritted teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, Adora’s intentions were basically confirmed. There was maybe some empowerment in having that figured out, though. Maybe she’d let Adora keep savouring her current position. Make her wait, make her beg, get herself back on top. Well, maybe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, love. I’m glad,” Adora purred gently, whereas Catra started to purr </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, so where was I?” Catra asked, very distracted from her train of thought, mind utterly transfixed on how good Adora felt as she rubbed against her bulging sweet spot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>told me about the whole burning your hand on the sandwich grill thing. Ringing any bells, kitten?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, yeah. The grill. Right. I remember now. Yes, totally remember. So anyway, I...I…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra froze for a moment. Did she just hear Adora giggle? Yeah, that seemed pretty unmistakable. It really felt like Adora was goading her on, the movement of her rubbing against Catra speeding up just subtly. Meanwhile, the heat in the magicat veteran’s pants was getting to a boiling point, her hardness throbbing for attention and eventual release. Her hand was resting right on Adora’s upper thigh, the smooth fabric of her black leggings like a black hole, pulling her in. That’s when she realized she couldn’t take anymore of this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I...Oh, fuck this,” Catra snarled, hand digging into her wife’s thigh slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde, crew cutted space marine-turned-teacher made a quick noise that sounded like ‘hmm?’, but whatever curiosity she had quickly gave away to blissful confirmation. Catra rolled her wife onto her back with a surprising amount of ease what with the First One’s metal bones, pounced on her, and passionately kissed her. Her jeans grinded against Adora’s leggings, drawing out a quiet whine from her wife as Catra’s erect womanhood rubbed against her own southern regions. Adora’s hands were wrapped around the small of her back, gently running her hand over the coarse green fabric of Catra’s flannel. It seemed fairly certain that neither of them wanted the moment to end, their first meaningful kiss in recent memory, further supplemented by the two of them rubbing on each other like...well, a cat and a space marine in heat, or something. Even with that overpowering energy washing over the both of them, however, Catra found herself coming up for air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi…" Adora looked utterly amazed, her azure, augmetic eyes wide and unblinking as they looked up at Catra. Her mouth hung open just a bit, clearly still taking in the sight of her wife on top of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did I misread that? Sorry, I should've...it's just, you were...I mean--" Catra stuttered out, the nervousness juxtaposed against how domineering her current positioning was, until she was silenced by Adora's lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde teacher didn’t waste a single second more, yanking Catra’s ponytail downwards and bringing the two lovers back into a heavy, lustful kiss. Catra’s mismatched eyes opened just a crack in shock as she felt Adora’s tongue dance its way into her mouth, intertwining with her own. She felt a hand on her thigh suddenly, still taken aback by Adora’s directness. The hand slinked its way up her leg, finding the crotch of her jeans and groping at her with direct, hardly-restrained wanting. It was honestly all knocking her for a loop, realizing that Adora had been holding in all this...raw, physical </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>beneath her married-to-the-job exterior as of late. Not that Catra was complaining, mind you; no, what she was doing was moaning and growling from her wife’s no-holds-barred touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, </span>
  <em>
    <span>senorita,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Catra’s voice was a low, innuendo-laden snarl, her fangs poking out of her mischievous smirk. All sorts of dirty thoughts were flooding forward like a rushing stream, and she couldn’t wait to sink herself into her wife after all this time; claws, teeth, dick, she was gonna put all of it on her. “You really know what you’re after, huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, I’ve missed you…” Adora’s hand only moved to further grab at her magicat lover’s womanhood, the limb’s impressive length and girth barely restrained by her pants. Her eyes looked so beautiful when they were open so wide, the desire in them so subtly seductive. “I’d do anything to make up for the lost time, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra simply laughed to herself, a dry, seductive, quiet promise of what was yet to come. She brought herself back down on Adora, not letting her go, continuing to enjoy the sensation of the First One’s hand against the front of her pants. It really had been too long, and she wanted to be all over Adora; not right away, of course, thinking it would be much more fun to make her wife </span>
  <em>
    <span>work </span>
  </em>
  <span>a little for her pent-up desires. The magicat’s clawed auburn hand found Adora’s prying one, the very same she was using to rub and grab at Catra’s womanhood, and brought it to the waist of her jeans. She felt Adora’s lips curl into a satisfied smile at the repositioning, her hand sliding further downwards, thumb curling on the waistband of her underwear, and… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, darlin’,” Catra chided playfully, her face narrowing into a cocky sneer from her Bowie eyes to her lips, “Not there. Not yet, anyway.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-what do I have to do? Please, I’ll--” Adora started. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, you’re cute,” Catra laughed, hand reaching behind Adora's head to grab a handful of her undercut, "I can think of a few things. I've had time." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just tell me, Catra," the blonde space marine whined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well…" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The magicat veteran tilted her head across the room, eyeing Adora's workstation with a level of excitement she didn't think was possible when regarding it. There was a time, in fact, where she probably actively regarded the messy desk with contempt. Not today, though. The commander saw her staging ground, thought of the battle lines to be drawn, and felt herself stand achingly at attention for the charge to come. Her bayonet was fixed, and it needed to pierce Adora. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y'know, missus DeGruy, I think you gotta put in a bit more time at that desk of yours," Catra sneered suggestively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh? I do, do I?" Adora singsonged, her voice cheerful with anticipation of what her wife inevitably had in store for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, you do," Catra's hands tightened around her lover, "But not for planning." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I do like a little variety…" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then you'll </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>this." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed hold of Adora's wrists and rolled herself up and off the bed, taking her wife up with her. The blonde gasped happily at the gesture, letting herself rise from the mattress and collide with her wife’s embrace. Catra was honestly a little baffled at how Adora was just allowing herself to be thrown around; it had to be that she was letting all this happen, given that for all of Catra’s hard-bitten ex-military strength she likely wouldn’t have been capable of flinging several hundred pounds of vat-grown muscle and First Ones augmetics around. She wasn’t complaining, of course. Adora had dragged her into this with all of her well-intentioned teasing, and Catra would be damned if she wouldn’t retaliate with twice the effort. She brought the space marine’s lips to hers with reckless abandon and driven purpose, </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks </span>
  </em>
  <span>of pent-up stress and tension and distance suddenly focused into a single, white-hot point within her, and used the newfound embrace to push her lover of the past twenty-ought years forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora gasped again as she bumped into the desk, Catra still all over her. Neither of them said a word, the imposing blonde simply letting out a wry giggle at Catra’s little display of force, seemingly only made further enticing by the borderline-feral panting and growling her magicat wife was already emitting. Her fur was rough, her chocolate-brown mane already tossed and looking somewhere between fearsome and enticing. Everyone always guessed that since Adora was built like a brick shithouse, she was some natural, constantly dominant figure; the reality was blurry, complicated, and a hell of a lot less balanced. Sure, Catra liked to get strapped up the ass for hours from time to time, but she’d always been a violent, chaotic, feisty gal who could put up a proper fight when the desire arose. Helped that she had a cock on her like a sawed-off shotgun, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up,” Catra snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Adora asked, the question deliberately intended to provoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The desk. Get up,” Catra demanded, the roles becoming very much reversed as she grinded her engorged length against the marine’s pelvic area, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But my papers--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>test me,” the magicat veteran snarled through gritted teeth, shoving herself against Adora even harder. The desk rocked at the impact, but Catra’s wife still wouldn’t budge a step back. “I just spent all day--all </span>
  <em>
    <span>week</span>
  </em>
  <span>--grinding away, cleaning up all my piss-for-brains employees’ messes. I know what I’m after. Only question is, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, I’m pretty sure I know what I want, yeah. What do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want, Catra?” Adora asked, tauntingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” Catra laughed at the reversal of the age-old question, the echo of some far-off dilemma from the First Horde War, “What? You need me to spell it out for you, dumbass?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not much for fancy talk, but I’m thinking I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>to throw you on this desk and fuck your brains out. That enough of a passing thesis statement for you, missus DeGruy? Or do you need a demonstration?” Catra sneered, voice full of the sort of angry, messy lust only she could conjure up. Her hand was on Adora’s thigh, claws out. For balance, of course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even know what a thesis is?” Adora asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I sure fuckin’ don’t,” Catra smirked, clawed hands pushing into Adora even more now, “Desk. Now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora might have had a witty quip or two up her spacious sleeves to use as a comeback, but her dark-haired wife shut her up before she could fire it off. Catra’s lips found hers again, almost biting in their impact, their tongues both intertwined soon after. The blonde space marine let out another soft laugh, feeling the pressure Catra was putting on her with both her hands and...lower limb, before she finally caved and let herself slacken ever so slightly. Adora went back suddenly, the motion accompanied by a slight hop as she raised herself onto her desk. Papers scattered to the floor and fluttered into the air in a snowfall of flat black-and-white sheets. Binders careened off the desk and slammed against the carpet in an almost ironic audible metaphor. A handful of writing utensils rattled about and signalled the last few notes of the odd, discordant overture Catra had caused. As to what this overture was signalling the start of, exactly, was a symphony that the couple were simultaneously familiar with and lately distant from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no words following Catra’s final push to mount Adora on the desk. The entire situation itself was most certainly not the right time for talk, not when both womens’ bodies were so hungrily transfixed on each other. Her breath hot and rapid against Adora’s face and neck, Catra snaked a hand to the bottom of Adora’s loose-fitting shirt and pulled the grey-blue garment up over her head; the action tossed the blonde’s cropped hair slightly as it passed through the shirt’s neck, making her look preemptively tossed around before any tossing around had even begun. As she brought her arms around her wife’s strong, aggressively-augmented back to unhook her bra, the magicat’s acute olfactory senses caught the scent of Adora’s musk through her leggings and it was enough to force her to hold back her claws a touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra thought to herself eagerly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Those are definitely coming off next. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The top half of Adora’s undergarments fell to the desk in short order, the noise hardly drawing a single reaction from Catra. The only noise in the dark-haired magicat veteran’s head was the sound of her breath mixed with Adora’s, rough and jagged and full of wanting, accompanied by the pounding of her heart in knife-shaped ears. Catra wondered for a moment whether Adora’s two hearts thrummed even louder in her own ears, but it was ultimately a temporary curiosity that she’d have to ask about another time; other feelings were overtaking her that needed to be addressed, and judging by the look in her wife’s electric blue eyes, they weren’t feelings exclusive to Catra either. The brunette magicat kept her eyes on Adora’s as her hands drifted southward, claws curling around the waist of the imposingly-built teacher’s leggings, still remembering her promise to herself from earlier. She was certainly glad to have kept it once she put it into action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra pulled away Adora’s leggings and panties in one simultaneous tug, tossing the bottoms to the floor along with the scattered papers and work supplies. Her wife’s womanhood looked perfect, its crinkly lips framed with trimmed, platinum hair, a sight Catra somehow felt she hadn’t seen in too long. The visual was barely half of what was doing it for her, however. Her god-given magicat sense of smell was something she was feeling extra grateful for now, the musk of the space marine’s aroused sex hitting her twice as hard now. Catra felt almost intoxicated on it, frenzied like a shark to blood. She took a step back and began unbuttoning her flannel, feeling as if she couldn’t get her clothes the fuck off fast enough. It seemed as if Adora figured the same, hand coming to the front of Catra’s jeans and working the button off and zipper down. She felt eager to get out of the damn things, their denim confines feeling overall tighter than a Czernobogian priestess’ knickers. Something rather critical hit her amidst all the heat of the moment, however, just in time for Adora’s strong hands to work her jeans around her ankles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Catra started, “Do we have any, uh, protection? I can’t remember if I--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora laughed quietly to herself at her wife’s concern. Her hand temporarily left Catra’s waist, coming to one of the top drawers on the desk and nudging it open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got you covered,” Adora smiled, passing Catra a small foil package, a distinct round-shaped ridge visible beneath its square exterior. Mercifully, the blonde superhuman didn’t throw the condom at her wife’s face for once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You keep condoms in your work desk?” Catra asked in disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like to be prepared.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something else was dawning on Catra as she looked at the packet of protection in her palm, just a little hunch she had based on some of the present evidence. It was enough to force her to stifle a knowing smirk. Despite her best efforts, however, it wasn’t really stifled at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanted me to do this to you, huh?” Catra prodded, her fangs poking over her bottom lip in that maniacal way they oft-times did when she was grinning mischievously. Just as well, of course, given she knew how cute Adora found that look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm, well,” Adora blushed, chuckling sheepishly. She’d been caught red-handed, it seemed, just as Catra figured. “I-it </span>
  <em>
    <span>may </span>
  </em>
  <span>be a long-standing fantasy of mine, but, y’know, I can’t really tell you one way or the other, kitten…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh, alright, keep your little secrets,” Catra finished undressing herself, sliding her pants the remainder of the way down and stepping out of them, “Something tells me I’ll get ‘em outta you soon enough.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That right?” Adora asked almost tauntingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call it an educated guess,” Catra paused a moment as her sentence was punctuated by the rip of foil. She looked over at her wife for a moment, catching the blue glow of her eyes aiming their gaze downwards. Adora seemed frankly just as transfixed by her lover’s womanhood as Catra had been by her’s, her substantial girldick finally freed and standing firm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra leaned herself back in and let her lips find Adora’s, the jaded magicat revelling in the skin-to-skin contact as her auburn-furred chest rubbed against her wife’s own. The two of them were perfectly stripped down now, two bodies meant to be together yet deprived of each other for so long, and Catra’s self-restraint amidst it all was slipping fast. One free hand, claws sliding back in with a little discipline and attention to detail, wasted not a single moment more in tracing its way straight up Adora’s muscular thigh towards her cunt, feeling past the groomed hair and soft outer lips until they found the firm nub of the space marine’s clit. The brunette felt a calloused hand around the back of her neck, pushing gently in some vain effort to coax Catra away from Adora’s mouth, as if the short-haired blonde had something left to say. Catra laughed to herself and pushed her lips against Adora’s twice as hard, fingers following suit as they pressed against the space marine’s extra sensitive bean, making it clear to her supersoldier wife that she wasn’t going anywhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running her fingers along Adora’s wetness, Catra used her free hand to roll the condom down her still-hardened length. At a time like this, it was difficult not to stay hard, everything between her wife’s arousal dampening her fingers and the sweet-hot scent she still gave off driving her onwards. Wrapping the rubber sheath around her member with one hand was admittedly not the easiest thing--determining which side was up, pinching the tip and then actually rolling it down--but she got it done. She’d certainly had practice. Once it was secure, she let her focus come back to her other hand, letting her digits briefly tease and slide their way down to Adora’s slick, dripping opening before working their way back up to her hard clit. The muscular blonde whined desperately in response, the gesture a wordless outcry for something more. Catra didn't intend to give in so easily, however. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want from me, Adora?” Catra teased, fingers still spinning little circles along Adora’s clit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--What?” Adora asked, breathy and dumbfounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What do you want</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Catra gritted her teeth, pressing her fingers down slightly firmer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Adora gasped, her hands balling up on Catra’s back, grabbing handfuls of her fur. The riled-up magicat didn’t mind, the sting simply serving as something between a dare onwards and a reminder of her wife’s superhuman strength. “C-come on, you know…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I don’t know. Maybe I wanna make sure,” the dark-haired magicat sneered, her digits not letting up as they continued massaging the pink, sticky pleasure garden under their tips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh, that’s--</span>
  <em>
    <span>mmm</span>
  </em>
  <span>--very considerate of you, kitten, but I think you’re probably good…” Adora squirmed on her desk, the force from her metal-boned physique moving around causing a nearly-empty coffee mug to nearly fall to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t hurt,” Catra’s voice dropped to a low growl, moving her head into the bend of Adora’s neck to plant a succession of angry, messy kisses there. The blonde space marine’s breath quickened again, like she’d just ran a lap. The laconic brunette intended to help Adora burn a hell of a lot more calories than she would have if she ran some laps, however. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For fuck’s sake, Catra,” Adora whined in desperation, the pangs of frustration and need in her voice coming just in time for Catra to give one last press on the blonde’s clit before sliding her fingers downwards and into her dripping opening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, babe. I wanna hear you say it,” Catra was right up next to Adora’s ear, ensuring her request was perfectly heard while nibbling at her wife’s earlobe, “Just gets me </span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking hard…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“J-just…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Just what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Just stop fucking around and slide it in me!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra made a face like something had just clicked for her, some grand eureka moment that somehow changed her whole worldview. All of it was feigned, of course, mere exaggeration designed to further tease her lover before she finally delivered her desires to her. The hand she’d been using to touch Adora’s womanhood moved away, thinking to herself that it likely wouldn’t be needed considering something else would be doing the work pretty soon. The dark-haired magicat smirked knowingly at the buff First One warrior, spread out on the desk in front of her with legs open wide, eyeing her up before finally giving in to the heat building in her firm womanhood. Her dampened hand lowered for a moment--and indeed, for more than just a split second Catra contemplated licking her fingers--before she leaned herself in so that their chests were just barely touching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>there </span>
  </em>
  <span>we go,” she singsonged playfully, looking satisfied with her wife’s answer. That, and just how goddamn needy her azure pools seemed to look at the moment. How could she resist that face?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra took the hand she’d thoroughly soaked in her wife’s nectar and briefly rubbed it over her shaft. She’d gotten Adoa so wet it would probably work as perfect extra lubricant, not that she felt there would be a ton of need for that. Still, good to make sure. Better to have it and not need it than to…….yeah, you know the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re about to get quite the study session, missus DeGruy,” she taunted, hand coming to the base of her womanhood as she lined it up with Adora’s opening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ohfuckyes--Ah!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adora started to moan some blurted words of anticipation, only to be cut off as Catra finally, lovingly, filled her request.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dark-haired magicat slowly pushed herself up into Adora’s cunt inch by inch. She let out a ragged sigh and let her eyes flutter closed for a moment, transfixed suddenly by how good her wife’s most sensitive area felt entwined with hers. Only now was she realizing how much she missed that soft, wet warmth, their internal workaholic-related dry spell having dragged out for longer than either of them would have perhaps cared to admit. The first of her thrusts were gentle, slow, savouring the movements and sensitivity as she let Adora adjust to her presence. The blonde space marine’s breath quickened a moment, her powerful hands digging in to Catra’s back even more as she softly cried out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The restraint it took for the two of them to move slowly collapsed in almost no time at all. Catra embraced her wife, claws unsheathed ever-so-slightly in impulsive pleasure, as her movements gained momentum. Neither of them said a single word more, their bodies sending the message more than clear enough. Catra nestled herself against Adora’s neck, giving herself to the sway of the tough blonde’s cries intermingling with the faint, pounding thrum of her twin hearts, the sound full of bottled-up wanting built over the last month. Their lovemaking was desperate, urgent, both of them just letting it all out and giving each other everything after what had felt like a lifetime of waiting. Adora’s strong legs wrapped around Catra’s waist, gesturing rather firmly as to just how exactly she wanted to be fucked, the further urging of her auburn-furred wife onwards solidifying the step of their continued, intimate dance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The time apart had almost done Catra some favours, at least to some degree. She felt so fucking sensitive, every thrust sending shocks of ecstasy coursing through her like some kind of exotic designer drug, the pressure and heat of Adora’s lovely little lady flower only pleasing her further. With their arms and womanhoods thoroughly intertwined, the legs of Adora’s desk rattling and thumping with every single stroke, Adora had already begun calling out Catra’s name like it was some sort of command; arguably, it was, both a cry of physical passion and a direct order for the magicat to keep impaling her First One lover with her substantial cock. Catra also took notice, rather comically amidst the absolute love of Adora and consumption by raw pleasure, of the fact that this was probably the largest number of F-bombs Adora had ever dropped at once in her whole time knowing her. She admittedly couldn’t speak for just what sort of profanity her wife uttered back on the other side of the battlefield during the First Horde War, or even what her and Glimmer used to talk like back when Catra was on Ahriman and Adora was pregnant with Harper, but this was certainly new to </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, Adora. Didn’t think you--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh</span>
  </em>
  <span>--had it in you, babe,” Catra mocked her wife’s guttural, profane ululations, her voice not exactly coherent herself as she excised every bit of vocal effort not to collapse into pants and grunts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, First Ones, shut up…” Adora panted, wrapping her legs around Catra tighter in an effort to drive her deeper, “Less talking, more fucking.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Got it</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, you got it. Heh…” Catra laughed dryly, her efforts to maintain legibility collapsing as she regressed into moaning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way Catra saw it, there was absolutely not a chance in hell she'd turn down an order like that. Not now, not ever. After having taken such a long time away from making love with her wife, how could she? She kept plunging herself in and out of Adora's flower, the action practically happening by reflex, goaded on by the blonde's continued, loud outcry of Catra's name. Just how could a moment--or, more accurately, blissfully prolonged sequence of moments--like this possibly get more perfect? Well, for starters, Catra was beginning to get some ideas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need anything else?” Catra asked. The request was rhetorical; she knew full well what she was going to offer Adora regardless of what she answered with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ah, Catra, fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>--dunno what you mean,” Adora moaned, “Doesn’t get better than this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you--</span>
  <em>
    <span>hnng</span>
  </em>
  <span>--wanna try somethin’?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora simply nodded in response, clearly equally at a loss for words as Catra herself was. That suited the chocolate-maned magicat just fine. Those little check-in moments during intimacy were honestly something she lived for; it helped her gauge that everyone was having a good time, and between her complicated relationship with her body and past insecurities about relationships, that encouragement really helped her feel at ease. That said, with the permission she sought now bequeathed on her, she enacted her next move. Her hand drifted down the small of Adora’s back and jumped to her thick, muscular thigh, tracing inwards with purposely tantalizing slowness until it found its way back to the marine’s clit, hanging just above where Catra’s dick was doing the old in-out-in-out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Adora spat out, half realization and half random, impassioned vocalization. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like that?” Catra asked playfully, again rhetorical, as she began gently spinning her fingers again. Well, it wasn’t entirely rhetorical. She wanted to make sure Adora was enjoying it, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, definitely!” the solidly-built blonde blurted out between pleasured yelps, “I--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ah, fuck!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’re so good to me, Catra! I don’t even--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe, hush…” Catra brought the index finger of her free hand to Adora’s lips. The marine’s breath felt hot against her fur. “It’s like you said. Less talk, more fuck, remember?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohh, yeah, right…” Adora giggled, her voice wavering just barely under Catra’s continued force. As if that wasn’t enough already, her thought was temporarily punctuated mid-sentence as her magicat wife suddenly delivered a wicked, firm thrust all of a sudden, the sudden inward ramming bringing Adora to the point of a short scream, “Thanks for--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ahh</span>
  </em>
  <span>--reminding me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra was more than happy to remind Adora of that particular request, though verbal reminders were definitely not her preferred method of doing so. She just let herself continue working away in a rhythm that felt so incredibly natural in its movements, so necessary in its quickening pace. It had been quite a while since the last time anything like this had happened, yet it still came utterly effortlessly to the both of them. The physical action of it was more than enough, her still-solid girldick pistoning in and out of her wife’s sodden, musky pussy in such a way that it hit every sweet spot on the way in and back out, but looking intently into Adora’s eyes only made it feel even better. The wanting in her eyes, the mask of love and necessity, the shaggy parts of her buzzed hair hanging over her eyes in some updated facsimile of her iconic hair poof...it was driving Catra up the wall, and evidently driving Adora up her desk. The panting, thrusting mess of a magicat woman let her free hand come to her forehead and wipe a bead of sweat away--whether it had been conjured from the summer heat or simply the lovely exertion of plowing Adora--before leaning in to silence Adora’s continued calls for her, inches away from her awaiting lips, until…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, so Finn and I mulled it over a little, and we were thinking that maybe I should make chicken parm for dinner--</span>
  <em>
    <span>whoa.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra and Adora both snapped their eyes away from each other with the abruptness of a screeching train halt, still going at it with each other despite their occupied eyes. The door had been left open--a mistake Catra cursed herself for, though to be fair she had no idea she'd have her dick buried in her wife mere minutes after getting home--and there was a man standing in the hallway whose presence made Catra's tail crook frustratedly; the reasoning behind that reaction surprisingly didn't have much to do with his intrusion, however. He was an unusually tall, solidly built fellow, clad in a mauve shirt that was one of Adora's, a grey beanie covering his short sandy hair. Catra was surprised to see him not covering his neck with that scarf of his, always shamefully blocking off that tattoo that marked his origins: the barcode, the Horde insignia and Roman numeral two, the Horde Battle Language designation "Panzersoldat". The adorable little lab rat that Adora insisted on keeping as a pet--a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sibling</span>
  </em>
  <span>--in spite of his roots with the Second Legion and their fiendish experiments. To think the bastards not only grew their own space marine, but they had also been a skip and a hop close enough to mass producing them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, uh, hey there...uh…" Catra stumbled over the words, still breathy as she multitasked, snapping the fingers of her free hand in some vain effort to recall the name that Adora's genetic copy had picked, "I wanna say...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Aidan?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Adam," the other marine politely corrected Catra, his azure, augmetic irises--identical to Adora's down to the last cell--mercifully averted from the scene unfolding in the other room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Adam! H-heh, right! Hey, man, it’s just...heh, it’s funny...see, I</span>
  <em>
    <span> totally</span>
  </em>
  <span> forgot you were still here,” Catra panted out, voice barely cutting over Adora’s. She wasn’t sure just why the hell her and Adora were still willing themselves to keep going at this point. She guessed all that time apart had resulted in a general agreement that nothing was going to kill the mood at this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems you forgot a lot of things,” Adam laughed, unimpressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, First Ones, are they having intercourse out there?” a snide, equally unimpressed voice called from across the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” Adam sighed, staring at the floor with an unsettled, beet-red look on his face, “...Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, brother,” Finn came out of their room begrudgingly, a pink-nailed hand already over their eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, technically, I think you mean ‘oh, uncle’.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aha, right you are. Thanks for catching me, my good man,” Finn brought their free hand over Adam’s face with some difficulty, their modest stature dwarfed by his titanic, vat-grown physique, “Now do us all a favour and don’t look at cat mom’s weewee, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha--dude, I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely not looking</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Didn’t need to tell me twice! Yeesh…” the other blonde marine insisted, making an exaggerated retching noise to further cement his point. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, he’s polite, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra thought to herself, thinking that if she wasn’t occupied with pleasuring her wife she’d likely roll her eyes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll give the fucking mole rat that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well. Suppose it can’t be helped. You wanna go for a walk in the woods and look at this crazy moss-covered boulder I found, uncle Adam?” Finn asked, hands still blinding both them and their uncle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Finnley, you want to go look at rocks? That sounds…” Adam seemingly paused for dramatic effect, “...Like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best idea I’ve ever heard</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” And, y’know, probably gives Catra a lot more, er, </span>
  <em>
    <span>quality alone time</span>
  </em>
  <span> with my sister--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, pal. You’re a discarded mole rat bootleg. Don’t--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ah!</span>
  </em>
  <span>--push your luck,” Catra interjected, the annoyance in her voice buried under the effort of her and Adora’s continued act. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honey, I thought I told you to be nice to him…” Adora managed to barely whimper out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we maybe have this conversation sometime when I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have my dick in you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, of course…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m thinking we should go,” Finn turned his still-blinded face over to Adam, “Should we go?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was your first clue?” Catra hissed through gritted teeth, “And while you’re at it, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>may </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to make that walk of yours a long one, kiddo. Just to be safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about dinner?” Finn asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll figure it out,” Catra groaned. She loved her and Adora’s kid, but she very much wished that this predicament would hurry the fuck up and resolve itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-okay! Yeah, sounds good, cat mom! Poggers!” Finn, seemingly getting the message, turned and seemingly began shooing their uncle downstairs as fast as they could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does this sort of thing happen a lot around here?” Adam asked, still audible midway down the staircase. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yessir. Better get used to it,” Finn explained, paradoxically nonchalant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, that’s...</span>
  <em>
    <span>not ideal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but it beats the hell out of the Legion. Long as Adora’s happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poggers, my dude. Straight poggers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra listened intently as her child and that...</span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>descend the last of the steps and head out for their little adventure. She was still barely perturbed from tending to Adora, the movement of her hips and Adora’s legs around her practically as reflexive as breathing, but she nonetheless felt something approximating relief as she heard the door click shut. Her eyes went back to Adora’s, those beautiful sapphires of flesh and steel, and the two of them smiled as if none of the previous awkwardness even happened. It wasn’t hard to let all of it go. The grizzled ex-Royal Army magicat felt absolutely amazing laying into her wife after so long, just throwing restraint to the wind as she slammed the buff blonde into the desk again and again while still tracing her bean with her free hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hey, Adora,” Catra gasped, “Wh-what the fuck is a ‘poggers’?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Your dick</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Adora whined, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Your dick is poggers.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Catra laughed, slightly confused but two enamoured with Adora to care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, whatever the hell that meant, at least it seemed like it was a good thing. It certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt </span>
  </em>
  <span>like a good thing. Even if they’d been at this particular rough, passionate rhythm for a while, Catra still felt like she had quite a bit of stamina left in her. That was just as well, considering that she really didn’t want this moment to end. Almost a straight month without a moment of attention for her most intimate areas--not even from herself, considering her alternation between exhaustion and work--and all that wait was paying off like crazy. Every inch of her womanhood felt completely alight, the only thing in her mind being how much she wanted to make love to her wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora was another thing, too. Well, a person, not a thing, but you get the idea. She’d been at that desk seemingly without end, as if she was chained to the damn thing, and for once Catra didn’t feel terribly bad for her positioning there. The blonde god warrior-turned-teacher was still just as perfectly sculpted as she’d been twenty years ago, hardly giving up her training in the slightest. Her voice was so soft, so vulnerable, every one of her cries and calls for Catra pulling the auburn-furred catgirl in like some sort of mythical Earthen siren. Even if Catra did enjoy being the vulnerable one quite a lot--a strap here, a bit of face-sitting there--she did quite enjoy calling the shots, and Adora most certainly wanted her to call them. It had been a damn hard month for missus DeGruy, and all she seemed to want was to melt into her wife’s hands as she sought out some release. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both had similar things on their mind, both wanting really only one thing for this time they made for themselves. If there had been a time for words, even ones that were suitably dirty, it had long since passed them by. Catra continued to let herself fall into her lover’s embrace, her aggressively hardened shaft pistoning back and forth through Adora’s warm flower, her mismatched eyes not leaving the oceans of Adora’s own. Getting lost in the movement wasn’t hard, the shocks of pleasure that accompanied each thrust--generally at an even pace, though every now and then Catra would intersperse an extra-hard, sudden jab in there just to watch the surprised satisfaction fill Adora’s face as she gasped--drawing her in and not letting her go. She just wanted to keep pleasing Adora, keep pleasing </span>
  <em>
    <span>herself, </span>
  </em>
  <span>letting their waiting finally pay off as they washed away the month’s stress in their lovemaking’s glow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Undaunted and undistracted, the two continued to give missus DeGruy’s work desk some unconventional forms of working for what felt like a microcosm-sized repetition of the little VE Day afterparty 20-ought years ago. The room was full of smells and noises and heat, the air feeling heavy and warmed despite the ever-present summer air conditioning. Catra felt the world around her go quiet, the sounds out her window turning to nonsense, hearing only her own ragged, grunt-filled breathing intermingling with Adora’s continued lamentations of the magicat’s name and the obscene, wet noises of their womanhoods fitting together. The buzzcut-topped supersoldier’s pussy filled Catra’s refined nostrils like a blooming garden, only serving to excite her further. Her dick felt warm, wet and almost painfully hard, and release felt so close yet so far; it felt just far enough that she could really show Adora a good time here, though, and that was absolutely what she intended to keep doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, yeah, fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>take it,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Catra growled, the hand that wasn’t busying itself stroking her wife’s hard little clit digging itself into the cyber-latticed musculature of her back, “This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so damn good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, agreed,” Adora whimpered out, just barely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra refused to let up, and likewise Adora took her magicat lover’s girthy cock like a good girl. How could she not after all this time apart, all this pent-up stress that needed to be released? Release was at the front of Catra’s mind, the length of her womanhood beginning to tense and reach its apex as the heat and pressure in her started to feel tough to tamper down. The auburn-furred catgirl didn’t see this apparent realization as any reason to let up, however, really seeing it instead as the opposite. Her ring and middle fingers kept rubbing away at Adora’s nub, almost as thoroughly soaked and sticky as her girldick, not intending to back down until both of them were satisfied. Keeping herself in line was nonetheless becoming a struggle, movements getting more and more messy, trembling, feral as the pleasure made her almost idiotic in her singelmindedness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all too easy to get overtaken now. As her own internal pleasure neared its locus, Catra clamped herself around Adora tighter, bringing her face into the bend of her neck. Her heart pounded in her chest and ears, the sweat beading on her forehead completely unrelated to the warm weather outside. Adora’s slough felt like the perfect holster for Catra’s rifle, her hand still firmly teasing away at the blonde’s engorged little bean, the rapidity and sudden renewed urgency of her calls indicating that she was just as close to her peak as Catra was. The magicat veteran held her close, feeling her tremble in her arms from the force of her ongoing rutting, tracing the scars on her back with a solitary claw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Adora...babe…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Catra grunted, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I-I’m gonna--” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The old, dark-maned soldier’s sollicker firmed even more, the impulses of heat within her growing sharper and sharper now, the combined feelings so strong that she couldn’t stop herself from continuing now. Not that there was much hope of that this far along anyway, of course. If Finn and Adora’s little “brother” couldn’t stop them, nothing could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking do it, honey,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Adora moaned softly, totally letting herself go for her wife, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shoot me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you make it sound so--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ughh</span>
  </em>
  <span>--brutal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you and Glimmer </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorta kinda </span>
  </em>
  <span>really fucking turned me on to dick-gun stuff, so, uhh,” Adora’s voice was frantic, almost squeaky, “Like I said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shoot me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah,” Catra growled as she fell further into her wife’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reddish-furred magicat’s womanhood swelled ever-so-slightly more, tightening towards the rest of her body. Adora was still calling out for her, as if her entire vocabulary had somehow been reduced to a handful of variations on ‘fuck me, Catra’. She’d been waiting for this, powering through her work without a single thought for herself or what she wanted in what might as well have been a tragically familiar pattern, and at last she had snapped. Catra intended to give her wife the reward she so desired in full, her body and voice and soul still easily and chaotically lighting the catgirl ex-soldier’s fire after all these years. She was thankful Adora finally made it known what she wanted, to take some time for herself. When the task at hand was done, she thought it might be a good idea to return to that for a moment. That said, there were other, searingly noticeable things consuming her mind right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shooting Adora so desperately craved felt barely a few thrusts away. Her breathing began to grow even more jagged and rough, collapsing into roughshod grunting moans as she dug her fingers into Adora’s back, the cables and knots of her cyberware-laced musculature tensing happily at Catra’s touch. The brunette’s fuck stick felt mere moments from bursting, the damn thing taking every last remaining iota of Catra’s ironclad Royal Army discipline to keep from erupting, but she held on tight. She wanted to please Adora first. She deserved it after all her hard work, and Catra did enjoy waiting on her wife’s every whim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further excited by a new feeling, Catra felt her lover reciprocate in digging a hand into the magicat’s back, accompanied by her strong, toned legs clamping down around her waist with renewed, sudden force. Adora’s calls suddenly grew to the loudest they’d gotten in the whole ordeal, the naming of her auburn-furred wife dramatically more loud and desperate all of a sudden. Catra had a pretty good hunch about what all that meant, but she wasn’t one to make assumptions. Sex wasn’t something she made assumptions about, figuring she wanted to give as much attention to detail to it as she did war or cuisine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ohhh, rrgh, fuuuuuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>--You close, babe? N-no pressure, ‘course,” Catra laughed jaggedly, wearing a cracked, toothy smirk as she took in the total, borderline ethereal ecstasy overtaking her wife’s face and body, “I could do this </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>night.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Y-yeah! Don’t stop! Fuck, Catra, please!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adora cried, “And, uh, I’ll hold you to that…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah?” the magicat veteran taunted, “Th-that a promise?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a guarantee.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal. Y-you better be a--</span>
  <em>
    <span>ah, dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>---woman of your word, missus DeGruy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora didn’t reply, instead lunging at Catra and passionately kissing her. Her lips told Catra all she needed to know, and she naturally doubled down on making love to her. The magicat was firmly in the space marine’s sway, all thrusting and rubbing. The lust in her cobalt eyes was beautiful, her scent maddening and all-encompassing. Catra didn’t think either of them was going to be able to take it much longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Catra! Catra, I’m coming! I--fuck!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde First One’s breathy, explosive declaration was almost like some symbolic order to Catra. The way her cock pistoned into Adora’s slough was becoming difficult to organize, her strokes suddenly gaining momentum as she felt herself close in, the fur of her thighs feeling thoroughly dampened. That familiar, musky scent hung in the air in such a way that was somehow still just as energizing, just as mouthwatering. It was, all of it, too much to take. So, with that final admittance in combination with her last bit of restraint finally wearing away, Catra broke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The magicat's hand clawed into Adora's back even tighter--not that she seemed to be complaining, she’d taken harder hits in her day--as she felt herself begin to erupt. Her haggard moans took on legibility and coalesced into one prolonged snarl of her wife’s name. She jabbed into Adora with her sollicker one more time and gave in to her breaking point. The condom around her womanhood filled with her hot, creamy spunk, the end feeling even more satisfying after all the silence both of them had endured. Starting to pull herself out, she found her eyes meeting Adora’s, the blonde marine smiling back at her. It made Catra happy and somehow prideful to see her wife satisfied and judging by the look she was getting, the feeling was somewhat mutual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...Oh, First Ones...Honey, that was wonderful,” Adora panted, exasperated in the best way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worth the wait?” Catra asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So worth it,” the solidly-built First One whined softly, the sound always a bit strange against her intimidating build, as she felt her wife withdraw herself from inside her, “I love you, Catra.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, babe,” Catra smiled back at her lover of the past twenty-ought years, settling into her embrace as she simmered down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seemingly nothing else needed to be said. Adora put a hand to Catra’s chin and brought the magicat veteran in to kiss her for a prolonged moment, the two of them resting in each other’s arms as their lips softly met. After all their revelry, all that unfiltered, passionate lovemaking amidst a month of nothing but noise and busyness, Catra felt content to let the words end there. She fell further into her wife’s sway as she glowed in their mutual post-orgasm softness, utterly sure of their satisfaction, reminded of what it was like to be loved by her perfect lady. The feeling felt just as good as it had over two decades ago, aging to perfection like the finest spirits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra lay motionless on the bed’s centre, still very naked save for the covers pulled to about halfway up her chest. The chill of the remaining perspiration she’d worked up amidst the evening’s more </span>
  <em>
    <span>strenuous </span>
  </em>
  <span>elements--the innuendo seems a little redundant, however, seeing as how you, dear reader, most definitely were already aware that Catra just fucked Adora’s cybernetically-augmented brains out like there was no tomorrow--was giving her chills as it hit the air, but Adora's body kept her warm between the covers. Her heavy, chrome-addled frame felt warm and comforting lying against the magicat's furry chest. Even if it was only about six o' clock, Catra was dozing off just a little bit. She had a little something on her mind, though, and elected that she wasn't going to let herself fall asleep just yet. Post-coital sleepiness was real. Post-coital clarity was even more real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, so, uhhh…" Catra mumbled, running her hand through Adora's soft, short buzz cut, "...We should </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably </span>
  </em>
  <span>not make a habit out of this." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora perked up, alarmed. The look on her face was reminiscent of a frightened rabbit in front of a moving car. Catra sort of understood her lover's perturbation, realizing that she could have definitely worded that better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Adora spat, cobalt eyes wide as saucers, "I just...just...</span>
  <em>
    <span>what!?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no, just hear me out, okay?" Catra slumped herself up on the bed, slouching against the pillows and backboard, "Much as that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite </span>
  </em>
  <span>the good time, I'm not sure if being so addicted to our jobs we don't talk for a month and then just fuck our troubles away constitutes healthy work-life balance. Know what I'm sayin', babe?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora was quiet for a moment, then started to nod slowly. She looked a little like she'd had a sudden epiphany. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, that makes sense," she conceded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't get me wrong, I'm guilty of it too. There are times when you could probably fool me into thinking I was married to the cafe instead of you," Catra explained, eliciting a genuine but melancholic laugh from Adora. It sounded like she sort of agreed. "I guess I've gotten so preoccupied with making the most outta life after the wars that I kinda burnt myself out working. I think I didn't count on my dream being this hard, and I just kinda...doubled down, y'know?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I get that. I mean, I love teaching, love it a lot, but I think there are days where I think I took what I wanted so far in the other direction it came back around to not being about me," Adora admitted, "And it's exhausting. I guess it's still kind of hard to say what I want sometimes." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right? I’ve just...I didn’t know life could be like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>twenty years ago. I feel like I have to work hard and be grateful for all this, but I think it’s getting a little crazy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I definitely feel that. Guess it comes with being bred for war and then suddenly finding you’re in a world where you don’t need to do what you were made for anymore. I guess the First Ones didn’t intend for me--for my kind--to </span>
  <em>
    <span>survive</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have a wife, and kids, and a teaching job, and a house in the suburbs, and--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get you, babe, I get you,” Catra sucked a breath in, looking at Adora with bittersweet eyes, “Should we talk to someone about this, Adora? N-not that I’m trying to sound accusatory or anything, I just think we could maybe--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, you didn’t sound accusatory,” the blonde First One smiled. Her hand moved around under the covers, finding Catra’s and holding on tight. “I think that’s a good idea.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? A-alright, cool. Well, I know a few folks who could help. I think Julie’s still counselling. She got her own practice last I heard. Maybe she could work something out for us,” Catra returned Adora’s smile, feeling hopeful, “We’ll figure it out, babe. How hard can it be?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Heck, we can start trying to make more time for us now. Sooner we work on it the better, right?” Adora asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely, even if it takes a whole lotta time. I believe it was a wise woman who once said that healing was a process,” Catra found it hard to believe she was still recalling Adora’s words from all those years ago, on the eve of the Second Horde War, but judging by the glint in the space marine’s steel blue eyes she recalled too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. It’s ongoing, and I guess we’ve still got a little work to do, and that’s okay,” Adora squeezed her magicat lover’s hand, “I love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Adora,” Catra replied. Her chest rumbled faintly with contented purrs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their poignant moment had lasted barely a single second longer before Catra caught the glint in Adora’s eyes suddenly changing. It had abruptly taken on a bit more edge than it had before, though it was still happy in nature. The magicat veteran swore she was familiar with that look, and once she pieced it together she was finding her mind back on the desk not long ago. In other words, her mind was in the gutter, as they say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we can still...</span>
  <em>
    <span>y’know…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Adora blushed, “...How did you put it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put what?” Catra teased knowingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think your exact words were...hmm, what was it? Oh yeah,” Adora smirked with about the same level of knowing, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck our troubles away</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I know it’s no replacement for working through our communication stuff, but still--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s definitely still on the table. I never said they were mutually exclusive,” Catra chuckled playfully. This time it was her squeezing Adora’s hand, though her motivations for doing so were quite different. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was hoping you’d say that. I feel like I haven’t so much as touched you in months, and, well, I am definitely not done with you,” the blonde’s suggestive half-grin had yet to fade, accompanied by piercingly undeniable bedroom eyes, “Well, speaking of which, could you go get your uniform from the study?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M-my uniform?” The magicat ex-soldier went white. Sounded like she was returning to active duty of another sort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You heard me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord Protector</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Adora enthused, lingering over those last two words in a goading sneer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh…” Catra laughed dryly, her fangs poking out, “Got a history lesson planned, missus DeGruy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that. Now go get it,” the blonde marine flashed those bedroom eyes again, “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>keep me waiting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The magicat veteran maintained her toothy grin, as if to say she wasn’t going to let her wife down. Sliding herself up and off the bed, back to her feet, her tail twitched eagerly behind her as she started moving to get her clothes together. Felt almost futile throwing her outfit back on considering it was going to come right back off in a matter of minutes--well, she hoped it would, anyway--but she didn’t want that homunculus Adora called a ‘brother’ to catch her running through the house nude. Or her kid, for that matter. After a quick swat on the behind courtesy of Adora’s strong, calloused palm, Catra quickly skittered about and scooped up her flannel and jeans. Throwing them back on as hastily as she could--her fly was still unzipped and a few of her top buttons were still undone, the remainder fastened in a haphazard, asymmetrical arrangement--Catra headed for the door. She took one look back at Adora with her mismatched, half-organic-half-augmetic Bowie eyes and found herself equal parts distracted and compelled to get on with this little errand. Adora looked back at her with a mix of the same impatience and excitement, the covers half-hanging off of her fair-skinned, heavily-sculpted physique in a way that framed them brilliantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I’d better get going, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>else I might just have to crawl back in. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking and walking a little like she’d just stepped out of a tornado, the brunette catgirl stepped through her bedroom door and closed it behind her. Still feeling a little thrashed in the best possible sense of the word, Catra leaned her weight against the door for a moment, slouching and sliding down ever so slightly. She sighed contentedly and shut her eyes a moment, feeling proud and giddy from both the prior fucking she’d enjoyed with Adora and the fucking that was seemingly yet to come (or </span>
  <em>
    <span>cum </span>
  </em>
  <span>as the case may be). Even if she was forty-five, Adora was making her feel like they were just meeting and falling in love for the first time all over again. Other couples might have fizzled with age and time, but her and her First One wife still never failed to get each other going when it came down to it. She loved Adora, that much was certain all these years later, and she was very much looking forward to showing her just how much she loved her. In a very physical, aggressive sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hey, so--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra’s eyelids snapped open, shocked, stumbling against the door and craning her neck left and right in an effort to locate the voice. Her fur simultaneously prickled and ruffled once she discerned the source of the voice, finding her so-called brother-in-law staring back at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bah!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fucking hell, have you been there this whole time?” she asked Adam accusatorily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Eww, no. Finnley and I just got back, and I figured we’d come check and see how you were doing,” the clone space marine explained, “I-is now a bad time?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As good a time as any,” Catra groaned, rolling her Bowie eyes, “What’s up, mole rat?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam sighed in disappointment. Catra figured that he’d better get used to it, as she didn’t intend on letting her guard down any time soon. The Second Legion’s rank-and-file thugs could likely be reformed with a bit of legwork--begrudgingly, but it could be done--but this thing had been grown in a mole rat lab. First Ones only knew what sort of wiring could be in there. He could’ve been a sleeper agent, ready to strike at any moment. When that inevitably happened, Catra would be ready, waiting to tell her family that she totally called it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, we just wanted to know if we could start dinner,” Adam stated, exasperated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, cat mom. We’re famished,” Finn explained, standing at Adam’s side and looking impatient. The cyborg supersoldier’s towering stature dwarfed Finn rather comically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra snorted. She reckoned that tonight wouldn’t be a night for a regular family dinner, for reasons that should have been fairly obvious. Her hand darted to her back pocket, checking to see if her wallet hadn’t slipped out. Finding it, she pulled the little leather fold out of her jeans and fumbled it open. The slightly-annoyed magicat shoved a fistful of bills in Adam’s direction, hoping her cunning plan would buy her and Adora the time they needed for their little reenactment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here. Go buy a pizza or something. I don’t think we’re gonna make it, y’see,” Catra grumbled, hoping the space marine would catch her drift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we get garlic bread? Ask her if we can get garlic bread!” Finn frantically demanded, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ask her if we can get garlic bread, uncle Adam!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam put his face in both palms before turning to face his technical sister-in-law, looking very much like he wanted this over with as much as she did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we…?” he started, sounding one hundred percent done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Duh, yeah. I’m not an animal,” Catra assured the two of them. There should have been enough money in that wad of cash. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Should have been, </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyway. As long as they didn’t splurge on the dips and soda, they should have been fine. Besides, didn’t this cretinous pile of fascist chrome have cash of his own he could pitch in with, just in case? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah!” Finn threw their hands in the air, “Hooray for my horny moms!” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that was...surreal, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Catra thought to herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, well, uh, maybe we’d better get going and leave ‘em to that, then,” Adam laughed nervously, waving for Finn to follow him as he and his sister’s kid headed back for the staircase. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Save me and Adora a few pieces, will you? I paid for it!” Catra called after them. Her fingers were crossed that they’d get pineapple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t get a reply, but hoped they caught the message anyway. After all, the two of them probably couldn’t eat a whole pizza and order of garlic bread on their own. With that ridiculous little distraction resolved, Catra tried to recollect what it was Adora had needed for their next little romp of adult playtime again. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, right, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she remembered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the uniform. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A little roleplaying as her former Lord Protector self, then? Well, it felt a little to Catra like she should probably get on that. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi folks! I'm finally back! It's been one brutal university term, but I made it! I hope you have enjoyed my comeback fic of sorts here. I got thinking about how an older Catra and Adora would probably still be very much all over each other and it all spiraled out of control from there, as it does. I...might write more of this just because cringy soldier roleplaying is a thing I'm morbidly curious about writing just to see how it goes, not to mention possibly having an aside where we see Adam and Finn off bonding somewhere. We'll see. I have other stuff in the pipeline too including a shameless self-insert burning trashheap fic, so that may take priority but you never know. Oh, and Escape is still being worked on. With the term wrapping up, I'll likely have more available braincells to write about more serious topics as opposed to just smut short fics, so you can expect another part of that in the future. It's good to be back, good to say I got a thing done. </p><p>Etheria Aeternum, </p><p>S_L_H</p></blockquote></div></div>
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